Kathryn Stimpson - The Sensitive Child Sleep Coach

As we head into October, I’ll be talking more about ADHD, sleep and regulation.

Not because every sensitive child has ADHD.

But because so many of the themes overlap: racing brains, difficulty switching off, sensory needs, bedtime resistance, emotional crashes and the “tired but wired” feeling.

Would this be useful to hear more about?

September can show up in sleep before children have the words to explain what they’re feeling.

For sensitive and neurodivergent children, transitions are not just practical changes. They can be full nervous system events.

So if bedtime has become harder, night waking has increased, mornings feel earlier, or emotions feel bigger, you are not imagining it.

It doesn’t mean you’ve failed.

It may simply mean the transition is landing.

Have you noticed a September sleep wobble in your house?

I’ve been quiet again.

Halfway through August, we had to make the heartbreaking decision to say goodbye to our 15.5-year-old dog, Bert. I knew it would be sad, but the depth of the grief really shocked me.

At the same time, we were still navigating school uncertainty, SEND decisions, and the emotional load of September arriving after a very difficult year.

So I disappeared a bit.

Not because I had nothing to say, but because I didn’t have anything spare.

And honestly, that’s something I know so many parents understand. Sometimes life gets so full that the non-essential things have to go, even when they matter.

I’m slowly finding my way back now.

Still here. Still doing this work. Still believing deeply that sleep, wellbeing, nervous systems, SEND family life and parent capacity are all connected.

No polished comeback. Just a gentle hello again.

If September has felt heavy for you too, you’re not alone.

Bert, you were the dog I never knew I needed.

Nothing prepared me for how much it would hurt losing you. I’ve been quiet on here this last week as we said goodbye to Bert.

I’d feared this day for two years. I knew I’d be upset, but I am absolutely devastated.

We had fourteen and a half years together, you came into my life when you were just over one, and you lived to fifteen and a half. From that moment you brought so much joy and so much stress into our lives. Always up to mischief, always plotting your next adventure. You really were the dog with nine lives.

You escaped more times than I can count, being a proper Patterdale, running off was practically a hobby. We left you for just five minutes in my mum’s dog-safe garden, fencing and all, and in that time you’d dug straight under it through the soil and were off on your own adventure for hours, it took the dog lost community to help find you. You got hit by a car and shrugged it off. You chased a cat off a fence and landed bottom-first in a rosebush. You got yourself tangled in barbed wire. We chased you through more woods and fields than I can remember. You even dug yourself under a shed once. Countless adventures, countless grey hairs for me.

The kids loved you so much and miss you every day, each in their own way. Ruby loved taking care of you, always the reassurance of you being there.

We just loved you so much.

I like to think you’re running free somewhere now, off on one more adventure.

Loving you always. 🐾

Not every hard moment is just behaviour.

Sometimes the body is part of the story too.

A child who is struggling might also be:

tired
hungry
overstimulated
dysregulated
needing movement
needing more transition time
needing the world to slow down a bit or speed up
That does not mean every hard moment has a simple fix.

But it does mean behaviour is not the whole story.

This is especially true for many sensitive and neurodivergent children, where sleep, sensory load, movement, food, and the pace of the day can all affect how things feel by the evening.

Sometimes what looks like “too much” is actually a child whose system has had too much.

Which one tends to tip things most in your house - tiredness, hunger, sensory overload, or needing more movement?

If sleep has suddenly felt wobblier lately, you may not be imagining it.

For many sensitive and neurodivergent children, back-to-school starts affecting them before school has even begun.

It can show up as:

more silliness at bedtime
more resistance
more emotional outbursts
clinginess
difficulty settling, even when they are clearly tired

That does not automatically mean your routine is wrong.

It often means your child’s system is already trying to process the change ahead.

When a child feels things deeply, anticipation can show up in the body long before they have words for it.

If this is your house right now, you are not alone.

Which of these signs shows up most in your evenings right now?

I’m learning, slowly, that self-care is not always the glamorous version we get sold.

Sometimes it looks like saying no.
Sometimes it looks like lowering expectations.
Sometimes it looks like doing less.
Sometimes it looks like admitting you’re overstimulated too.

And for parents of sensitive or neurodivergent children, I think that matters more than people realise.

What does self-care actually look like for you at the moment?

Any other self-employed parents out there who experience this specific type of guilt?

Because honestly, even as someone who works in family wellbeing, I’m right in the middle of it.

Last night I had an oh s**t moment. I was reviewing the summer childcare bookings and realised I hadn’t put my son into childcare for today, which was supposed to be a working day.

My very lovely neighbour Rachel very kindly offered to take him out with her sons, who he’s friends with, for the day. Which was brilliant, and he’ll have a great time.

But instantly the guilt hit. Like, should I have cancelled my work for the day and spent time with him instead?

For the record, he’s been in and out of school since January on a part-time timetable, so it’s not like we haven’t had time together. But it never feels enough, does it?

If I’d gone with him, I’d have felt like I abandoned my business. But sitting here working, I feel like I should be with him.

And here’s the bit that confuses me most. If I were employed, there wouldn’t even be a question. I’d just be at work. So why is it different when you’re self-employed?

But also, and I almost feel guilty saying this, I genuinely love my work. As a sleep and wellbeing coach for families, my work is purposeful. It reminds me who I am outside of being a parent.

And honestly, when I’ve had time to work and focus on something that’s mine, I show up better when I come back together with the family at the end of the day.

So it’s not just guilt. It’s guilt mixed with knowing that working is good for me, and therefore good for them too. Which somehow makes the guilt worse, not better.

I spend my days supporting parents of babies through to teens with sleep and wellbeing. I know the theory inside out. But when it’s your own kid, and your own business, the guilt is still real. Even professionals don’t have this fully figured out.

It’s like you can’t win either way.

Other self-employed parents, do you experience this? And employed parents, do you carry the same guilt, or does it feel different?